Autumn

THE autumn comes, a maiden fair

In slenderness and grace,

With nodding rice-stems in her hair And lilies in her face.

In flowers of grasses she is clad; And as she moves along,

Birds greet her with their cooing glad

Like bracelets' tinkling song. A diadem adorns the night Of multitudinous stars;

Her silken robe is white moonlight, Set free from cloudy bars;

And on her face (the radiant moon)

Bewitching smiles are shown:

She seems a slender maid, who soon

Will be a woman grown.

Over the rice-fields, laden plants

Are shivering to the breeze;

While in his brisk caresses dance

The blossomed-burdened trees;

He ruffles every lily-pond

Where blossoms kiss and part,

And stirs with lover's fancies fond

The young man's eager heart.

Kalidasa